


I'll go everywhere you go

by jozka



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Magical Realism, and worry about the future, bar setting, its very domestic, the twins own a bar, they also do some magic shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24507130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jozka/pseuds/jozka
Summary: You’d think growing up surrounded by magic would make you get used to it, but just like growing up in a cold place doesn’t make you immune to freezing to death, there’s simply no getting used to magic. The sight of it will always be just as beautiful, just as breathtaking as the first time, and the feel of it flowing through you will always be just as pleasant. It’s addicting, Suna guesses that’s why their business is doing so well.(or the twins own a bar, suna is a bartender and there's some magic stuff going on!)osasuna week day two prompts midnight/secrets
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 5
Kudos: 79
Collections: OsaSuna Week 2020





	I'll go everywhere you go

**Author's Note:**

> this is a prequel/spin-off idea to another fic i'm currently working on! i love my little magic bar universe and i can't wait to explore it further!!
> 
> title from jhene aiko's while we're young:))

At the end of an alley, two left turns away from the main street of a popular nightlife district, lies a bar called Nine Tails. The only indication of said bar being located there is a flickering neon sign hanging above a metal door. The sign lives a life of its own, flickering on and off as if it decides which people passing by are worthy of seeing the establishment. 

It’s a bad spot for a bar, hidden away from the rest of the district by multiple brick walls. The likeliness of a group of partygoers casually walking through the maze of back streets and stumbling upon its doorstep is very low, and thus, Nine Tails relies heavily on its regular patrons.

Despite the bad location and lack of customer variety, the bar is doing quite well financially, while also steadily building up a reputation as a hidden gem and a ‘must visit when you’re in town’ kinda place.

At first glance a newcomer might be quite disappointed when stepping inside. After all, the bar didn’t gain its reputation for its spectacular decor, music or drinks, (though the bartenders are quite skilled) but for what lies beyond. 

To the left of the the bar counter, behind a thick teal colored velvet curtain, lies three small rooms.

Inside these rooms, that’s where the magic happens.

—

It’s Sunday night.

For most people, Sunday’s mean quiet nights spent at home with the family, not rowdy nights at a bar. But the staff and clientele at Nine Tails have never been most people. No, the people who frequent the establishment are more often than not the people who long to escape from everything normal, traditional and mundane. 

During his three years as a bartender at Nine Tails, Suna Rintarou has met quite the collection of characters.

The bar is open Tuesday through Sunday, Monday’s being closed on Kita’s insistence. The bartender (who honestly acts more like a manager) made a huge fuss about the importance of a well-rested staff and Atsumu, who refuses to live by anyone’s rules except his own, actually listened for once and adjusted the opening hours.

The weekdays are usually slow and only require one out of the three bartenders employed to be present. During these days the back rooms are for pre-booked appointments only. Suna likes working on weekdays, the slow pace fits him well and there’s no Kita there to reprimand him if he slacks off.

Friday nights bring out the occasional rebellious youth, the ones who think just showing up and ordering a beer is a sign of resistance against the way society views places that offers magical services such as those at Nine Tails. Suna can’t count how many times he’s had to pretend to be interested in a barely legal rich kids sob story about how their parents don’t understand them and they wish they could leave what they know behind and become apprentices. They never do. The rebellious kids wake up the next morning with a nasty hangover and a fun story to tell their friend. They move on with their lives while Suna stays behind the counter, mixing drinks for the next ones.

Saturday nights bring in the most customers, both for the bar and for the back rooms. Most Saturday’s Suna doesn’t see the twins at all. If he’s lucky he’ll catch a glimpse of silver hair disappearing behind a curtain or see a familiar hand reach out to snag a glass of water, but other than that they’re too busy fulfilling customers wildest dreams. Saturday is the only day of the week requiring all three bartenders to be present, sometimes it even gets so crowded it resembles a club more so than a bar.

Sunday nights are usually when the true patrons show up. The regulars whose drink orders Suna, Aran and Kita know by heart, the ones who have gone to the twins for years with the same dreams and desires. Most of them are just people you would consider slightly odd or eccentric, but there are some customers, some who have drifted too far away from society to ever go back. When Suna sees those customers, the way they move and react slower than the rest, the way their eyes aren’t quite in the present, he wonders if what the twins are doing causes more harm than good.

One of these particular customers emerge from behind the thick velvet curtain separating the back rooms from the bar just as the big wooden clock behind the bar chimes. 

Instead of turning around to check the time, Suna continues to wipe down the bar counter and counts the chimes. There’s eleven of them, meaning it’s still three hours left until closing.

The customer, a man who looks to be in his fifties, takes a seat at the bar and flips through the laminated papers called their menu like he’s got a newfound sense of purpose in life. They always look that way right after they emerge, like all is well. Slowly the effect will fade and wear off and the lifelessness will return to their eyes, just a smidge more prominent than before. 

“What can I get you tonight?” Suna asks the man once he puts down the menu on the sparkling clean counter.

“I’ll stick with just a beer thanks, whatever you recommend,” the man offers him a polite smile and Suna notices the absence of one of his front teeth. Other than that he looks to be in perfect health, and his aura is powerful and full of life. For now, that is.

“Coming right up.” 

After serving the man a glass of the cheapest beer they offer (out of consideration for the man’s wallet), Suna resumes his cleaning, now moving on to polishing glasses. Kita returns from his break a few minutes later, giving the clean counter his nod of approval before offering to take over the polishing. Suna notices he start with the already finished glasses, but he doesn’t take offence at that.

Suna gets to idly lean against the wall closest to the curtain for all of three whole seconds before a body drapes itself over his side and grabs hold of his shirt. 

“Save me,” the body, now recognizable as Osamu, says.

“From what?” Suna asks while slowly peeling Osamu’s right hand away from his shirt, finger by finger. He notices that his hands are warmer than usual, meaning they’re overworked. When Suna first found out about how the twins hands would get warmer the more they worked he immediately thought of how electronics start to burn when you use them for too long. Osamu got slightly offended when Suna compared his hands to a smartphone. 

“Oh, I don’t know, the endless stream of customers whose dreams I have to conjure maybe?”

Suna successfully removes Osamu’s hand from his shirt and entwines it with one of his own. 

“Just send them to Atsumu if it’s such a hassle.”

“I can’t, he’s booked up all night with the same customer so I got all the walk-ins,” Osamu has that one look on his face he reserves for when Atsumu does something particularly annoying. Suna runs his thumb back and forth where it rests on Osamu’s hand, hoping the gesture will somehow ease him a little.

“Is it the one with the good hair again?” 

Osamu nods.

“Yeah, it’s the third time this week.”

This is news to Suna, though he’s heard from the other employees that Atsumu’s newest regular has started to show up more frequently, he’s only seen the man in question two times before.

“Do you know why he’s here?” Suna asks, genuinely curious.

It’s common for younger people to visit the twins once or twice just to try it, or to visit them on a special occasion like you would a spa or an amusement park. The regulars were often in their mid-forties or older, but Atsumu’s new regular couldn’t possibly be older than Suna himself.

“No idea, and ‘Tsumu won’t tell me nothing either, for once he’s actually respecting a customer's privacy but there’s gotta be something wrong with him, there always is.” Osamu both sounds and looks exhausted, and there’s something else too, his aura isn’t as comforting as it usually is, it feels worried.

Suna reflects on this for a moment.

“You look awful, why don’t you close walk-ins for tonight, you’ve done enough and it’s nearly half past eleven anyway.” 

A quick glance at the clock tells him that in reality it’s only ten past, but it doesn’t matter, Osamu is clearly worn out.

“Gee thanks,” Osamu scoffs. “I’ll close, but only if you leave Kita to tend the bar and go on a walk with me,” Osamu raises himself from where he was leaning against Suna and uses their entwined hands to drag him out from behind the bar. 

The customer Suna served cheap beer to just put down his empty glass, besides him there’s only three tables occupied. Kita can manage that, there’s no need for Suna to stay unless he’d prefer to polish glasses, which he doesn’t.

“Fine, lead the way.”

—

For the unaware, the street Suna and Osamu are currently walking down after exiting the bar would look incredibly dull. It’s a narrow, cobbled street only found if you know of its existence. Just a few streets away from the nightlife district lies a part of the city most would consider shabby, abandoned, ugly. But for the ones who really sees, the street is probably the most lively and beautiful place in the whole city. Suna always gets amazed when he thinks about it, the fact that a whole world is hiding in plain sight.

You’d think growing up surrounded by magic would make you get used to it, but just like growing up in a cold place doesn’t make you immune to freezing to death, there’s simply no getting used to magic. The sight of it will always be just as beautiful, just as breathtaking as the first time, and the feel of it flowing through you will always be just as pleasant. It’s addicting, Suna guesses that’s why their business is doing so well.

The two of them slowly make their way down the street hand in hand, quietly looking at the many colorful little shops and stalls they pass. It’s a pleasant night, just the right temperature and no wind. It’s comfortable and familiar and in that moment Suna wishes he had mastered the ability to stop time. 

Atsumu can do that, it’s something he brags about a lot.

“I heard a new restaurant is opening there next month,” Osamu points to a vacant storefront next to what looks to be a tailor, “apparently Aran knows the owner.”

“Ah, let’s go there when they open.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Suna shoots a quick glance at Osamu. He doesn’t look as enthusiastic at the prospect of trying new food as he usually would. The worry is still there too, radiating off of him in an invasive way that would annoy Suna to death if he hadn’t learned how to control his ability to feel auras long ago.

“Let’s not go on the opening day, Atsumu will send a gift basket and I don’t wanna carry it.”

“Didn’t you say just a day ago that you’d like to build some muscle?”

“Obviously I lied.”

They wind up standing in the middle of a park. Suna has no idea how they got there, the street they walked is funny that way, it takes you to places you need to be rather than where you intended to go. Right now it seems the street thought they needed some greenery. Though the park isn’t very green at the moment with the pink cherry blossom trees in full bloom. Despite the lack of wind, the petals flutter down around them like snow in winter. Suna suspects it has something to do with Osamu’s worried aura, nature always seems so pick up on those things.

Osamu let’s out a heavy sigh, “sometimes I hate magic, my feet hurt from walking and now we have to find our way home from here.”

“Wasn’t it you who suggested talking a walk in the first place?” Suna questions.

Osamu glares at him unimpressed, “let’s sit down.”

“Any idea why we ended up here?” Suna asks once they’ve found a bench to sit on.

“I have a hunch,” Osamu answers vaguely.

“Okay,” Suna says, waiting for him to elaborate.

Osamu takes a deep breath, Suna squeezes his hand, it’s still abnormally warm.

“There’s something I’ve been thinking about lately, and It’s kind of a big thing.”

“Okay,” Suna says again, waiting for Osamu to continue.

They sit quietly for about a minute before Osamu finally starts talking.

“I don’t wanna do it anymore,” he says. “The business, I mean. I don’t wanna spend my days making illusionary dreams for strangers anymore.”

“Okay,” Suna says again.

Osamu looks at him like that time he grew a second head.

“Okay? That’s all you’re gonna say after I drop a bomb like that on you?”

Suna sighs, “It’s not like this comes as a surprise. I noticed something was up with you, you’re not subtle you know?

The petals around them start to flutter more vigorously, it almost looks like they’re dancing.

“Don’t you think it’s selfish of me? We spent years practising levitation and hypnotism just for this, and then more years establishing a name for ourselves.” 

Suna is well aware of this, he was there after all, when the twins announced their plans to open Nine Tails. He had only known them for two year or so at the time, having been introduced to them through the death of his neighbor. The woman had been old and so wrinkly everyone called her the raisin lady, Suna is not sure anyone even knew her actual name. She was a witch, as was most of the people living in the neighborhood, but the difference was that the raisin lady practiced the old magic, the teachings that most had forgotten. She would take on pupils, if they were promising enough. 

The twins were promising enough.

Suna would see them come and go from the house, but he never approached them, he didn’t have a reason to. They had a certain aura around them, it was powerful, determined and very alluring. Suna’s mother had taught him to stay away from auras like that, but clearly he was a bad listener. The day the raisin lady died all the flowers in her garden wilted and grey rain clouds rolled in over the street. The atmosphere was gloomy and somber, and even though Suna barely knew the woman, he felt like he was in mourning. That afternoon he was walking home from the corner store when he saw the twins futilely knocking on her door.

“Give it up already, she’s not gonna let us in.” one of them said, Suna couldn’t differentiate them at the time.

“But she promised we’d work on transfiguration today!” the other said.

They were already drenched from the rain and Suna felt bad for them, so he spoke up.

“She’s dead, you know? Probably died sometime last night or this morning.”

Both their heads turned towards him at once, staring at him with eyes that pierced his soul. It was rather freaky. 

“But if you still wanna learn transfiguration my mom taught it to me last year so she can probably help.”

The twins nodded in unison and followed Suna into his house instead and that was it. 

A years later Atsumu informed Suna of their plans to master hypnosis and dream walking and use it as a means to let people experience things they’d always dreamed off. Apparently their uncle had met a witch on his travels in India who offered such services and he had spoken of it with such enthusiasm the twins couldn’t help but fall in love with the concept. They had big plans of opening a practice in a nice part of the city that wasn’t just for people already aware of magic, but for everyone. Suna thought they were crazy, but three years, a trip to india and a bartender class later they all stood in front of the metal door and watched as Osamu put the neon sign up above it. 

It wasn’t the place they had initially imagined, but plans change. Dreams do to, which is why Suna isn’t surprised that Osamu wants to quit.

“I don’t think it’s selfish of you,” Suna says, “it’s only natural to not want to do the same thing now as when you were seventeen.”

“Atsumu does, he still has plans to expand and move to a better location.”

“Yeah but since when does he decide for the both of you? Last I checked you were twins and not clones, thank God for that.”

Osamu lets out a faint laugh, the petals stop fluttering momentarily.

“It’s not like I want to work as a bartender for the rest of my life either,” Suna admits. “Don’t get me wrong, I like my job and I like sleeping all day but I can’t picture myself being forty and still serving drinks.” 

“Hmm, but you’d look good doing it,” Osamu grins at him. “We’d probably get more customers if we had a sexy silver fox manning the bar.”

“We already have Kita, what more do we need?”

“That’s true.”

“Speaking of sleeping all day,” Osamu lets out a yawn and leans against Suna’s shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

He looks at ease, leaning against Suna’s shoulder with cherry blossom petals stuck in his hair, but his aura is still not completely at peace. Suna supposes it will take more than a confession to him for it to go away, it isn’t his reaction that matters after all.

“Atsumu won’t hold it against you, you know? He might get mad, no scratch that, he will get mad, but he’ll get over it.”

“Are we talking about the same Atsumu? Because the guy I know still isn’t over how I accidentally broke his dragon skin when we were twelve.”

Suna doesn’t comment on how he’s pretty sure it wasn’t an accident.

“Yes, he’s petty and kinda awful, but I have faith in him,” Suna says, because it’s the truth. 

Suna has known the twins for about seven years and although they used to annoy the shit out of him (and still do on occasion), they somehow wove themselves into his heart, one a bit deeper than the other, and he can’t picture his life without them in it. That goes for the rest of the staff too, it’s not the bar keeping them all together out of convenience, Suna cares about and trusts them all deeply, it’s kind of terrifying in a good way.

“That makes one of us then,” Osamu says, letting out yet another yawn halfway through.

“Hey, don’t worry about breaking the news to him now, cross that bridge when you get to it.”

“Who taught you that proverb? You sound like my mother.”

Suna shrugs. “Maybe it was your mother, we should visit her soon.”

“I know,” Osamu says through another yawn. “She’s always complaining about it when I call her.”

“We could make it a weekend trip, visit our parents, do some soul-searching while we’re at it, come back as new and refreshed people with a plan for the future.”

“Soul-searching? What kinda spirit did you get possessed by to say that crap?” 

Osamu’s aura is calmer, Suna smiles.

—

It’s midnight. Suna is not wearing a watch and his phone is safely tucked in his jacket pocket, but he can still tell exactly when the clock strikes twelve. It’s one of his many unexplainable abilities and by far the most unless one. The universe decides to be cooperative for once and leads them back to Suna’s apartment complex once they exit the park. The streetlights are flickering, they haven’t worked properly for at least a year, but that’s to be expected of a shitty neighborhood like this. 

Suna spots his neighbors cat running across the street, he’s thought of getting one for himself for a while but he worries his apartment is too small. He’s thought about moving a lot lately, not only for the sake of getting a pet but for other reasons too. 

His apartment is located in a neighborhood on the verge of falling apart, the few times Suna is late to work there’s always someone there with a cheeky comment on how they thought his building had collapsed and he had died. The first time Kita visited he put a protection spell all around himself which the others then copied. 

Then there’s also the fact that Suna lives on the eighth floor and the elevator stopped working a couple of months ago, there’s no public transport station nearby and the corner store is always out of his favorite brand of snacks.

There are a lot of reasons for him to consider moving, but the biggest one isn’t the fact that his apartment is a hovel, it could be a luxury mansion and there would still be something missing. Or to put it in better words, someone missing.

Suna looks at Osamu beside him, he looks tired but at least his hand is back to a normal temperature now.

He’ll ask him about it soon.

“You were always really good at potion making,” Suna says, breaking their comfortable silence. “Maybe that’s something to consider.”

“Mm, maybe.”

“Kita’s grandma might take you on as an apprentice.”

“You think she’s forgiven us for that time we knocked over her urns?”

Suna winces at the memory. They had visited the apothecary to get a sleeping potion, but then a petty argument had escalated and a few shoves later Atsumu was on the ground surrounded by broken urns, ashes and disturbed spirits while Osamu and Suna looked on in horror.

“I don’t think she’s a resentful person,” Suna says, not entirely convinced. “And you did make it up to her by capturing the spirits and paying for the damage.”

Suna enters the code to his building, even though he enters the right code, it takes three tries before the door gives and yet another reason to move is added to his list.

“Could you really imagine me working at an apothecary? Making and selling potions?” Osamu asks when they’re on the third floor taking a quick breather. 

“Yes,” Suna says, because it’s the truth. Osamu is way better at handling customers than Atsumu, and he did always have a knack for potions.

“I’ll consider it then.”

They continue walking up to the eighth floor, by the time they reach Suna’s door they’re both panting. Maybe working out more is yet another thing they should consider doing. The more he thinks about it, a weekend trip to escape for a while would do them good. Never before in his life had Suna seriously entertained the idea of soul-searching, when he brought it up before it had been a joke, but it’s ten minutes past midnight, he just climbed eight floors and exhaustion is kicking in.

But planning trips and thinking about the future can wait until the morning. 

Suna twists his key, opens the door, kicks off his shoes and falls on his bed in the span of five seconds with Osamu right behind him.

“Dibs on the good pillow,” Osamu says, gripping the pillow in question tightly in one hand while using the other to throw the lumpy pillow in Suna’s face.

“I’m only letting you have it because I feel bad you’re going through a life crisis.”

“If you really feel bad you’ll buy some new pillows tomorrow, even the good one is starting to get thin,” Osamu complains with his face down on said pillow.

“Sure, let’s go to Ikea.”

Osamu raises his head from the pillow to look at him. 

“How domestic.” 

“Shut up and go to sleep.” Osamu just laughs at him, inching closer until his head is resting more in the crook of Suna’s neck than on the pillow he was so protective of earlier. 

“Sure, let’s sleep.”

It only takes five minutes for Osamu’s breathing to even out, after ten he’s full on snoring. It would be annoying if Suna wasn’t used to it by now.

They have a lot of things to figure out, a lot of decisions to make, a lot of bridges to cross. They also have a lot of time, there’s no use in worrying about things at the moment. They’ll cross those bridges when they get to them, and the important thing is that they’ll cross them together.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on twitter @atsumuluvr69 (yes i know i have the most cursed @ in the history of twitter)


End file.
